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Thursday, November 10 2011

     When you live on a farm, there are certain things you expect. Mud will be tracked in the house, you will go to work with hay in your hair, and there are mice in the barn. What you do not expect, nor will you tolerate, is this:

     Other Half returns home last night bearing coffee. I decide to put it in a little-used bottom cabinet which contains old dish towels and burned oven mitts. Slide open drawer. Fat mouse runs along the drawer ridge and disappears in back of drawer.  Scream and commence the Mouse Dance.  (modified version of the Rat Dance) As I jump up and down, point and scream, Other Half (who has been law man for 30 years) also begins to scream and jump in place.  I yell for my Contract Killer - aka Lily the Border Collie, who is fearsome confused by all the excitement.

     I clarify to Other Half that the suspect is a mouse, not a snake, (he was certain I had found a snake) and point Contract Killer toward drawer.  She begins her search for Trespassing Rodent but has no luck. Stewart Little the Mouse has crawled out of the drawer and into the back cabinet.  I slowly open drawer above the bottom drawer.

     A tiny mouse stares up at me. I scream. Contract killer cannot get to mouse before Stewart Little's Little Friend scampers off.  Other Half shouts at me to cease shrieking when I am surprised by a rodent because "it scares the crap out of him."

      I am beside myself. Two mice in less than two minutes! Contract Killer and I now begin a diligent search for mice in the kitchen. As I slowly open cabinet doors, she scans the contents like a Raptor, searching for her prey.

     Other Half finds this vastly amusing.  (I am still amused that he screamed like a girl while I was doing the Mouse Dance. Yes, I know, I was screaming too, but I have boobs, therefore I can scream when I see a mouse and get away with it.)

     Our systematic search of the kitchen is fruitless.  We clean out the cabinets and Other Half baits mouse traps with peanut butter.  I inform him that the cats at my For Sale House are coming here! NOW! (They are still living in the barn at the other house until it sells. It's under contract now. Keep your fingers crossed.)  Other Half informs me that he does NOT want house cats.  They are dirty. They come with litter boxes. He does not like cats in the house.  I remind him that I don't like RODENTS in the house. He continues to set mouse traps.  I state that I will NOT set mouse traps, nor will I empty mouse traps of deceased rodents - that is NOT in my job description.

     I prefer to hire contract killers for such work.  (cats and Border Collies work nicely)

     Other Half informs me that I am over-reacting to the idea of mice in the kitchen.  After all, it's just a little mouse.  They've probably been crawling all through the cabinets and we haven't died yet.  I am not amused.

     The next morning I check his traps. Two are empty of peanut butter and there is a fat blond mouse in the third one.  Other Half is beside himself with happiness. I am grossed out.  The dogs and I go outside for a walk and a morning frappuccino. (Yes, I'm drinking again. Wouldn't you be?)

     I return from the walk to find Other Half standing in the kitchen re-setting traps with peanut butter.  My gaze happens to land on the kitchen sink.  There is a stiff dead blond mouse splayed out in a trap on my kitchen sink.  I begin screaming and shouting at him.  He fails to grasp the problem.  (MEN!) At this point I am ready to have an apoplectic fit. I order him to remove said mouse from my sink and disinfect the entire sink and counter.  He agrees but argues, "it's just a mouse."

     Am I alone in this? Am I a voice crying out in the wilderness? Does anyone else have a problem with a freakin' mouse on the kitchen sink??!!!

     And what really scares me is this: 

If I had not SEEN the Rigor Mortis Rat (okay, it was a mouse) on the sink, would he even have bothered to clean it?!!!  EEEWWW!!!!

Yep, he thinks this is funny.  Wait till he comes home to find that I have purchased a ferret. (just kiddin') I will name it Rikki Tiki Tavi. (I know. He was a mongoose. Hey!  That would work too!)

"The only good mouse is a dead mouse!"




Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 11:29 am   |  Permalink   |  7 Comments  |  Email
Yup bad when dead ones are presented regularly as my breakfast treat sometimes afternoon tea. Son in Law rescued an alley cat kitten when he first came here from Boston. This cat has grown into a lethal hunter of very large proportions. I can handle the regular dead ones but in recent times he is making it interesting with a live one or 4. They are what we refer to as bush rats a native marsupial. Reasonably large, also field mice these he half eats and precioius sugar gliders (type of possum).
Posted by Liz (Vic Aust.) on 11/10/2011 - 02:01 PM
You are NOT wrong! I freak out when my husband washes his filthy hands in the kitchen sink where I place dishes. There is a reason why we have a bathroom sink. A mouse is off the radar. (in any sink).
Posted by Janet on 11/10/2011 - 04:31 PM
Since I *am* a guy I have three categories and two possibilities. Gross, nasty and dangerous. And...wife is around or wife is not around. I'm sure you can all see where this is going! If my wife is not around, gross is OK in the kitchen sink...if it's cleaned out right away. Nasty and dangerous is never OK in the kitchen sink. I'm not sure where a killed a few hours ago mouse falls on the scale. :-) Eric
Posted by Eric on 11/11/2011 - 08:10 AM
Eric, it's a good thing you chimed in, since you echo the thoughts of the guys at work. I'm blessed that I work with lots of men. They are my "spies in the enemy camp" since my co-workers are quite happy to educate me on the inner workings of the male mind. And Ladies, according to the men . . . I over-reacted. I KNOW! You realize what this means! It means you cannot trust your adoring husband to NOT PUT A DEAD MOUSE IN THE SINK when you're not looking! (GRRRRRRRRRRRRRrooossssssssssssss)
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 11/11/2011 - 10:46 AM
I must add a word or two in a non-sexist frame of mind. I wouldn't care if the mouse ended up in the sink or not (I have a dishpan for washing dishes) as long as the darn thing was dead. The sink can always be cleaned. I haven't seen "my" gray house mouse since the evening it was in my bedroom, watched at a distance by my cat and ignored by Terri. Where did it go? Does it have relatives lurking in my attic? OK, I have to confess that climbing up to peer through the hole in the ceiling is something I just don't want to do. Put it down as one of my fears -- a fear of the possibly disease-ridden musty-dusty unknown. Wish I had a brave southern gentleman to seach my attic!
Posted by Terri's Pal on 11/11/2011 - 04:40 PM
I'm a screamer. But after I've crawled down off the counter, I go get the vacuum cleaner with long hose. Take off any attachment at end of hose, poke hose into dark place where mouse has run and WHOOSH! Mouse gets sucked into vacuum bag. No muss no fuss. Shell-shocked mouse (or maybe mouse thinking it just went on the best 6-Flags ride ever)is left in bag, bag carefully thrown into trash --- without my ever having to touch or even see it. Results may vary depending on size of vacuum bag -- I've sucked up several of those varmints at once. It's very gratifying to hear the thunk when suction grabs rodent and whisks it down the tube! Tina
Posted by Tina G on 11/12/2011 - 08:53 AM
Never thought of using vac, but I have Rainbow so mouse would drown, [bo ho] I have lived with mice in my camp at the lake for years, they get the message to vacate just as soon as my BC Augie walked in the door. NOW RATS are a different story and I have killed quite a few by stomping cause DOGS just wanted to play with them. Thats the difference between BC and Rottys, one knows the duty of a dog and the other thinks they are play toys. I won't tell ya'all what my first hubby said about mice, not enough *** on my keyboard.
Posted by Libby on 11/13/2011 - 10:53 AM

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